


No Fate

by Polanthie



Series: Full Moon Ficlets [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Amoral Stiles Stilinski, Future Fic, Gen, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29732775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polanthie/pseuds/Polanthie
Summary: A world that is just a little different from our own.  And where the Stilinskis had moved when Claudia died.
Series: Full Moon Ficlets [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992004
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14
Collections: Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #421: Wyrd





	No Fate

_“There's no fate but what we make for ourselves”_

Stiles had come to the conclusion a long time a go that destiny was a bitch, and he really didn’t like her. Being subject to a prophecy was no one's idea of fun. Unless you read stupid fantasy books and most of them were fairly consistent about prophecies being a bad thing. 

But even if destiny was sat on your shoulder, there was nothing to say that her sister fate couldn’t lend you a hand. After all how you faced your destiny was up to you, you make your own fate. Or rather you could play with it.

Which was why he was sitting a fairly nondescript café that was trying hard to be a throw back to the nineteen-fifties. But even with its sticky vinyl flooring it wasn’t truly succeeding.

There were members of the Hale-McCall pack dotted around. Some that he recognised from the photos in the files that the FBI held on them. Including Peter Hale who was also in one of the photo’s on his father’s mantel.

Peter was sat over in one of the corners with his back to the wall which gave him full sight of the café. And probably had a gun or two under the table as well just in case. There was no doubt in his mind that Peter Hale truly understood that claws weren't the answer to everything.

Derek was at the bar trying to look as though he was drinking coffee, which wasn’t working as his nose wrinkled every time his cup came near it. Cora had the other end of the bar, though she actually seemed to be enjoying her pie. Alison was pretending that the Wolf next to her was her boyfriend, though it was fairly obvious that they really couldn't stand each other. There were a couple of other people that he knew were pack members but couldn’t remember the names of, not really players more cannon fodder than anything else.

While he wasn’t nervous as such, his thumb was flicking against the edge of the file he had in front of him, more in anticipation than anything else. Something that occasionally touched the remnants of the ADHD he’d had when he was a kid. Which his magic had thankfully taken care of in his teens.

Sometimes having a minor magic was useful but not often, most of the time it was a pain in the ass. But he’d had just enough to get him onto supernatural team of FBI once he’d graduated.

A team that while falling under the FBI banner were more black ops than anything else. A team that had the mandate to kill first and ask questions later. One that was so open to corruption that you had to be magical enough to literally swear your oath of office on your life to be even considered. Two or three people still dropped dead every year after swearing their supernatural team oath. Why they thought they could get around the magic he would never know. 

Their true remit was to ensure that the supernatural was never under threat and never a threat. If they solved a crime or two while they were at it that was an added bonus. Nearly all team members checked their morals with their coat every morning. Picking up their weapons and a sense of justice as they did so. Everyone should have justice under the law. How they got it though, that was a different matter. 

The hyper awareness that came with his job told him he had company before his guest even joined him.

“Mr Stilinski.”

“Mr McCall.”

In a different time and place the man sat across from him might have been his friend, if he and his Dad hadn’t moved when his mom died. If her death had triggered his Dad’s magic, a magic that was stronger than his own. Coming with the sense of justice that had allowed his Dad to become a Chief Commissioner and one who hadn’t been exactly popular as he did it. 

Being Noah Stilinki’s kid going through the Academy had not been anyone’s idea of fun.

“We believe that your pack might find this useful…” He pushed the file across the table “… you have my number in there if you need to reach me.”

Leaving enough cash on the table to cover his bill and a coffee for his guest he walked from the café closing the door on what could have been but still meeting his destiny.

What the Hales did with the information that he and his team had collected about the Argents was up to them. Given that it had come through the bureau though he knew they'd be careful to a point.

After all, the Hale-McCalls didn’t need the FBI breathing down their necks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title and quote from the Terminator films.
> 
> Written and posted February 2021


End file.
